


Glacial Speed

by ballslucado



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cheerleader Waverly, F/F, First work - Freeform, Hockey Player Nicole, a literal disaster, champ party hardy, honestly i just needed something to lull me over for season3, i'm all for a jeremy and nicole brotp, still a disaster, thank you for being patient
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 03:40:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12380133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballslucado/pseuds/ballslucado
Summary: “So, you’re the infamous sister?” Waverly wasted no time in cutting to the chase, dropping down in the seat behind Jeremy. She bit her lip to suppress a giggle as Nicole whipped her head around to stare between Jeremy and Waverly.“How did you…?” Nicole asked, glancing over at Jeremy who pointed to his skull. “The hair?”“No,” Waverly mused, tilting her head. “No blue.”“Oh, right. No blue. Definitely not the fact I’m the only ginger within a hundred miles of here. Can’t be this hair.”“Not really laying low, are you?”Nicole huffed. “I’m trying."





	Glacial Speed

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Name's Larry and thank you for checking this out. This is my first fic so all feedback is appreciated. I just jumped into this fandom and I love it. Thank you again for checking this out.

_"Alright, Nic! That's the way to hustle!" The man beamed with pride, strong arms picking up the young child. Holding Nic firmly against his chest, James Haught zipped down the frozen lake, skating with a finesse that was quite impressive for a man his age. The young girl had forgotten about her stick and laughed as her father effortlessly glides across the ice, winter air stinging their cheeks, leaving once pale faces a deep shade of red. Out of breath the older man set the giggling girl down on the ice, ruffling fiery red locks against a calloused hand. "You're getting good, sport. Maybe you can play me and your uncle sometime soon. Skate circles around us. Shae can come too."_

_The thought had Nicole grinning with mischief. A missing tooth, however, lessened the effect. "Bet me and Shae could take you and Uncle Pat.” Ready to jump right into competition, she took her hand-me-down shift, gripping it tightly against tiny hands. She shifted her weight forward, ready to rush her father at any moment. The helmet, which had J. Haught etched into the side, covered Nicole's eyes, leaving only a toothy grin to be seen. Nicholas mimicked the position, a grin to match her own spreading across his face._

_“It’s been a wild game, folks. Flames-Ducks tied. The Ducks have certainly given Nicole Haught a run for her money. A right sure painful knock to her noggin.” He tapped the helmet, pushing it further down her face. The older Haught pinched his nose, his voice nasally and eliciting giggles from his daughter. “You’re sure right about that, Jimmy. Oh, yes, that young rookie is just about as fiery as her hair,” he pretended to announce as he skated backwards to their makeshift goalpost. “This one penalty shot could send them to the championship game. Calgary needs a miracle. Do you believe in miracles, Jim?” James unplugged his nose and picked up his stick, twirling it in his hand, tapping the ice, and smiling. “Seeing is believing, Mike. Can Nicole Haught score against her father, James Haught, the best goalkeeper Calgary has seen?”_

_The seven year old grinned, shuffling the puck with her stick. She pulled the helmet back and now with a clear view of her giddy father, slowly began to skate forward, picking up speed as she got closer to the goal. Much like her father, Nicole has a finesse on the ice, a little impressive for a girl of seven. With only a few losses of control of the puck, the young hockey player lined herself up with the goal, eyes flitting around for a chink in the armor of her father’s rock like form, a sneaky point of entry. She tried to not be obvious about her shot, but a father knew his daughter and blocked the incoming shot, wagging his finger playfully. “Ricocheted off the post! Haught has a second chance!”_

_A flash of red sped past the goalkeeper, quickly regaining control of the puck again. Fingers drummed against the end of the stick, skates planted firmly into the ice. This time as Nicole charged her father, she doesn’t stop and think of where to aim. Already having a position in mind, the young girl flew across the ice, trying to maintain eye contact with her father, trying to throw him off. With a quick glance below her, she slapped her stick against the puck, watching as it flew right beneath her the keeper’s arms, catching into the net he was guarding. Nicole let out a yell and did victory lap around the ice, taking a chance to taunt her father, tongue out and faces and all, as she skated. The victorious, smug smirk disappeared as she saw her father move from his post and sped right over to his daughter. The girl shrieked as he approached, inhaling sharply and screwing her eyes shut as he slid to a stop before her. Opening only one eye, Nicole saw that he held out the puck she recently sunk into the back of the goal._

_“Game winning puck. First goal ever scored on your old man. I think we should celebrate with some shakes,” James said, teeth shown in pride._

_The puck was transferred from hand to another, the weight of it feeling good in Nicole’s hand. “Shakes? Before dinner?” Her eyes light up, giddy with excitement for a shake before she’s allowed. It was a very strict schedule her mother had all of them on, but a chance to eat something that didn’t taste like it came directly from the dirt in their garden was a blessing._

_“No, a shake after a winning game. It’ll be a tradition for us. How ‘about it, Junior? Or are you too cool now to hang out with your dad?” he teased, flicking at her very red nose._

_“No!” Nicole ran forward, shoving herself right into her father’s gut. The warmth of her father’s hug was a very sharp contrast to the freezing weather they stood in now and it wouldn’t be a stretch to say she melted into the embrace. She’d always gotten along much better with her father than her mother. When Nicole had expressed more interest in jerseys than dresses, her father bought her a Calgary Flames jersey, much to her mother’s dismay. Of course she always preferred a t-shirt and jeans to a dress, but she’ll wear one every once in a while and that was just enough to please her mother._

_James placed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Come on, kid. I can hear a vanilla shake calling to us.”_

_And that was their tradition. A thick vanilla shake after every hockey game won. Lost hockey games weren’t rewarded with a shake, but rather a series of gluten free foods. It wasn’t hard to imagine the motivation Nicole had to win games. Gluten free pizzas and vanilla shakes aside her love for the game was genuine. As she grew older ( and quite a bit taller ) hockey became her outlet. Classic appearance of the girl in school included a duffle bag with shoulder pads and skates, mouth guards and sports bandages. Her sticks wrapped carefully and shown off on the side, helmet dangling from the shoulder strap. She sported the occasional bruise or busted lip, or a shiner as bright as her teeth, the day following a match._

_But being the only girl on an all boys hockey team was shock to all. Parents raised brows to Nicole’s own._

_“How can you let your girl play so brutally with the boys? Boys don’t want girls that could match their own strength.” Nicole remembered the conversation a woman had with her mother, the woman’s own daughter standing across from herself. The woman motioned between their daughters. “She even looks like one, Melissa. I think you should consider a finishing school for her.” Her mother said nothing, instead opting to smile at her friend, ushering a ten year old Nicole along._

_She cried to her father that night. He enrolled her in the park district’s hockey team the next morning, despite the argument he had with his wife as soon as Nicole went to sleep._

_“You always care too much about the others! Your daughter is happiest on the ice and in pads, not on a dance floor in a dress! Don’t ruin her happiness.” James stood in front of his wife, face red with frustration, hand slipped between the unbuttoned fabric of his shirt._

_“Don’t act like you aren’t pushing hockey on her! You’re just looking for some.. some kind of outlet to relive your ‘glory days’!” In contrast to her husband, Melissa’s face had less of a red tinge, but was wet with tears, fists clenched at her sides. She let out a breathless and humorless chuckle, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Of course I want our daughter to be happy, James. But what’s making her happy is going to cause a lot of trouble in the long run. You know this town.”_

_“I know. But I also know they believe in miracles.” James took his wife’s hands in his own, calloused fingers brushing over smooth knuckles, taking deep breaths to calm himself before speaking again. “Give her a chance to prove herself. Let her show them that girls can play hockey just as well as boys.”_

_Melissa yanked her hands away, shaking her head. “You tell her she can’t play hockey anymore. Tell her we can’t afford it. Tell her there’s a law, but I will not have my daughter bullied and ridiculed because you’re a sorry has-been.”_

_The next day James took the day off work to take Nicole to her first legitimate team hockey practice, name given as ‘Nicky Haught’. The coach raised a brow, and took a look at Nicole who was already taller than a handful of the boys and looked more prepared than most._

_“You sure you can handle these boys?”_

_“Let me show you.”_

_And show him she did. She easily matched the boys in speed and what she lacked in power, she made up in skill. She played proper matches with proper players and she never felt a feeling more exhilarating than stepping onto the ice before a game. To her surprise, the boys did not care to have a girl on their team. Upon asking why her mother never showed up to her games, her father stated it was their own little secret._

_“Mama can’t know, Junior. Can you keep this secret for daddy? If mama finds out, you gotta put away your hockey sticks.”_

_“For a game? Like getting benched?”_

_James chuckled. “More like benched for life. You’re a good hockey player, Nicole. Some people just can’t see that and they see a girl who acts too much like a boy. It scares them.”_

_Nicole titled her head, smirking a bit. “I scare them?”_

_“That you do, sweetheart,” he laughed, nodding his head, heart swelling with pride. “And you continue to scare them. You keep playing hockey, no matter the odds, alright?”_

_“I will, Dad. I’ll make you proud.”_

_She joined the boys’ hockey team her sophomore year. The beginning wasn’t easy. She had recognized boys she played with in her park district and she recognized girls who had always looked down at her for the way she behaved. The boys mocked her, telling her ‘girls aren’t tough’, ‘girls don’t play hockey’, ‘girls can’t beat boys’. Her first high school hockey game gave her a broken nose and trip to the hospital and a massive cheer when she showed up to school the next day. The tables quickly turned and Nicole and the rest of the hockey team got along like they had all know each other since birth. They were heroes. They were stars. They were famous._

_James Haught had never been prouder of his daughter. Well, maybe once when she came out to tell him she liked girls, particularly Shae. Her father had no issues, just a grin and a ‘Wow, Nic. Now we can check out girls together’. She pushed against the odds and proved herself to the community. People were clapping James on the back, congratulating him on his ‘Haughtshot’ of a daughter. All conversations led to one question. “Do you think she could go pro?” And James only had one answer._

_“I think fiery red hair would suit a Flames jersey just fine.”_

Nicole smiled down the grainy, worn out picture in her hands, thumb rubbing over the face of a salt and peppered man grinning back at her. In the picture she was sporting a black and green jersey, a hockey puck in one hand, trophy in the other. Her helmet, covering red locks, was battered and scratched, N.J. HAUGHT etched into the side. The picture was taken a year ago at the Provincial Championships, the rink empty in the background except for confetti littering the ice and her and her father in the center, grinning brighter than the stadium lights overhead.

She laughed at the sight of the puck in her hand, shaking her head. “Some tradition, huh, Dad? Vanilla milkshakes and all,” she muttered quietly, wiping a single tear from her eyes. “I hope you’re proud still. I’m trying real hard.” 

Her words trail off as a silent sob shook her body and she dropped her head into her hands, picture being held by her fingertips. She could hear footsteps padding down the hallway and she sat up quickly, taking a deep breath and wiping away any evidence of crying.

“God, Chrissy, I don’t know. She, like, doesn’t talk like ever, and Daddy is just, you know, upset she’s here or something. Like, she doesn’t even want to be here.” The voice from the hall grows louder and louder, right up until it was outside of her bedroom. “Whatever. We weren’t not even like blood sisters, so she isn’t even my responsibility. She’s basically dead weight right now. Okay, I’ll see you in class. First day of senior year! I’m not gonna let her ruin it, don’t worry. Tell Waverly to meet us at the usual spot. Okay. Bye, girl.”

No knocking, no announcement besides the pitchy voice she heard coming her direction Nicole’s step-sister swung the door open, an uninterested and annoyed look forming her features. Nicole rolled her eyes and pushed herself up from the bed, arms crossed, lips curled in a smirk. Wordlessly she grabbed her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder, shoving down a Calgary Flames onto her head. 

“Watch out, Steph. I bet I could ruin your senior year by just stepping near your car,” Nicole said, throwing her hands up in front of her. “Too bad Melissa is making you take me. Do you think she’d still pay off your Lexus if you didn’t?”

Stephanie Jones pursed her lips, impatiently tapping her foot, her handbag of a backpack, resting in the crook of her elbow. “You aren’t ruining my senior year for me, Nicky,” she hissed out, smirking a bit at the girl’s obvious distaste for the nickname. “I worked too damn hard to have you ruin it all. You mean nothing to me.”

_If this school is full of Stephanies, I might not make it at all._ “Right, I’m just a charity case for your popular vote for prom queen,” Nicole fired back. “Let’s just go. The sooner we go, the sooner we can stop talking.”

There was a little hmmph sound from Steph but she agreed nonetheless, turning sharply on her heel with Nicole mock saluting and following after. Steph gave both her parents a kiss on the cheek while Nicole offered a wave and a roll of her eyes at the ‘Have a good day, girls!’ her stepfather wished. The ride to school felt like an eternity with no sound, but the static of the radio and the girls’ breathing. Later than sooner the school began to come into view and Nicole can only quick a brow at it. It was small and rather modern for the town they live in, yet the words ‘Purgatory High’ and ‘Home of the Blue Devils’ at the entrance were fading with along with Nicole’s will to give this school a chance. Everyone looked the same; with each student donning some kind of blue, Nicole definitely stood out. The last thing she needed was questions, but she was sure with the kind of people she already knew, it wouldn’t take long for it start up.

“Don’t get out of the car the same time as me and don’t walk in near me.” 

The words startled Nicole, but she expected nothing less of the demands of her sweet and caring sister. Nicole gave a silent nod, tipping her hat to the blonde across from her who merely scoffed before stepping out of the car. The redhead watched as Stephanie met up with two other girls, giggling and smiling as if she just didn’t threaten the life of the new addition to her family. Nicole really does wait in the car for the sake of Stephanie’s reputation. Sighing as she stepped out of the car, she pulled her hat down as far as it could go, and walked her way over to the front entrance.

_Welcome to Hell._


End file.
